Love Has Meaning
by The Guy Below Me Sucks
Summary: In technology crazed England, prostitutes practically give live shows to passersby on the streets in a new pleasure element called Prostitution Tubes. What happens when a certain American stumbles upon a changed Englishman sitting patiently in his Tube? AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome, one and all~! Here's my new fic. It was actually a crazy idea that I thought of one day when I saw a certain picture on a Tumblr blog. ^^" I thought it was genius, so I went ahead and started this fic.**

**However, this fic isn't for those who absolutely HATE yaoi. This story is FULL of it. It's also full of language and smut. Meaningless sex and even to some extent, rape, as well. So, for those of you who aren't interested or hate things like that, please press your back arrow and read some other story. **

**For those of you who stayed, I hope you enjoy my new fic. This is merely an experimental chapter to see if this story will work out or not.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia! All characters are NOT mine! The story and idea is mine, though~**

* * *

I sometimes wonder why in the world did I ever choose such a vulgar job. Selling out your body to random strangers roaming the streets, letting them ravish you until their heart's content while you spread your legs and take it like some strange Barbie doll.

Because of the technology craze here in England, whores don't stand out in dark, shaded alleys and pick up clients that happen to be around the area. No, not anymore. We're advanced now, so we use a different form of prostitution—which is still the same old prostitution in a whore's eyes.

Whores now stand in transparent tubes. These tubes are better known as Prostitution Tubes, and these tubes are well known throughout England. True to its name, these tubes are used solely for prostitution. Prostitution Tubes are capable of barely holding two bodies—which makes your job even more difficult than it was in the first place. You can see the tubes anywhere—and anybody can see you doing your job. Ever wanted to keep prostitution a secret? Well good luck with that, now. Everyone knows that you're a whore regardless if they have ever used your service—like I mentioned, these tubes are _transparent—_see through. This factor is meant to please the public. Why keep all the pleasure to yourself like some gross hog? Sharing it with the public surely benefits both sides. Look around when a whore and a client are getting at it and you'll see many passersby watching the scene go on and masturbate at the same time. It's legalized. It's merely a _show _for those who either can't get any themselves. You get used to this eventually.

Women are strictly prohibited for the services of a male prostitute. Unless said so directly on the tube, no women are allowed to be pleased by the service of said male prostitutes. For whatever reason this is, I nor the public will ever know. The company (and my damned boss) had strictly forewarned all male prostitutes that were using their product before we were ever placed in here, so we all just took their word and refused all women.

We whores were either chosen against our will or even chose the job ourselves. Most of us have a job in a major profession. A huge variety of high-society men chose prostitution as a side job, more or less, for fun or money. Upon these tubes are the whore's personal information. Things such as their full name, age, profession, and race were shown with or without consent to the open public. Other things such as STDs were shown as well to hold back various lawsuits. Granted that there were shocking very little prostitutes with STDs on them, but you had those few that were infested with them—the public disregarded it and used the whores' service anyway. If a client had an STD, the whores had little say if they wanted to please the said client or not. These clients are free to say if they have one or not. Prostitutes were sworn into a contract, and if they were to break that—death was the other option. So of course we're going to abide by that track and get infected with whatever STDs were swarming around in that client.

Prostitution is now apparent throughout day and night. Anyone who wants a service with a whore can get it anytime of the day. Because of this, most of the whores work a whole day when they have a day off of their main job. Thus, rendering them tired after each service. This results in less money and even rough treatment. When this happens, our bosses do whatever they want with our body. They'll abuse us, injure us-whatever. They have the money to fix everything up. They don't care how we feel. We're working for _them. _We're making their money from our own bodies.

And nobody even frowns upon this taboo anymore. Whoever came up with this idea is just some sick bastard. But they're getting loads upon loads of money. Sometimes I wish I had that much brains and came up with an idea such as this a long time ago and label myself a sick bastard. Now that I look at it, these tubes are part of what makes this country flourish. We're rich because each whore gets tons of money, not to mention the company for the tubes itself. Sickening, yes, but genius all at the same time. Do whatever you can to get money, right?

And this was my life. Other than leading my country, England, I was also a prostitute. And it sure did give me a reputation that I never, ever wanted. But you can't help that.

It was a difficult thing called "life".

And life throws unexpected issues into your face when you least expected it.

* * *

I remember a man who came upon my Tube one day. He changed my view on life. He was a different man, no doubt. And very interesting all at the same time. He was a tall, American man. He had on these square-rimmed glasses and had a kind of dirty blonde hair color. There was this little persistent curl that stuck up regardless of what you did to it. He had been walking through the streets, lost. He also wasn't used to England's weird ways.

He turned around to ask me where he was and how he could get to the big Meeting house. Of course, I was willing to help this strange man.

This man, that I have known for several years.

America.

But he never noticed me. So, the look on his face when he turned to my general direction, was appalled. He was unaware of these Tubes because he never frequents England anymore. He never even knew I was a prostitute in my spare time. He read the holographic letters on the Tube and glanced up at me once more.

"England?" He chokes out. "What...?"

I can't help but blush and look away. What a horrible meeting. I look up at him and his jaw is slacked. "...Yes?"

But the American just stared. Luckily, I was clothed.

"Why are you in a tube...?" He pauses to think for a minute. "Now that I mention it, these are all over the place. I saw other men in these same things...Were they-?"

I nod, knowing what he was going to say. "They are, indeed."

America sighs. He places a palm on his forehead, shaking his head. The curl bobs back and forth. "Why?" was all he could ask.

I shrug and lean against the back of the Tube. "Money. Fun. Excitement?" I come up with little excuses. But these aren't really the reason.

I'm just sick scum with no life other than to lead his country along.

"But you have other choices." He pauses, looking me up and down. "Don't get me wrong, it's your choice to do what you want." He chuckles. "And I think it's pretty sexy that you're willing to sell your body out to just anybody on the streets. I mean..." He stops talking for a minute and shakes his head. "What am I saying? What I mean to say is, that you shouldn't be wasting your life as a prostitute. You have many other things to do than to lay yourself that low."

I look into his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that glinted in when the sun was just in the right angle. That same glint shown as he stared at me with a sincere expression that actually showed that he meant what he said. And I can't help but smile at his comment, regardless of the little compliment he threw in the middle of it. I wanted to hug him. Hell, I wanted to kiss him. He cared, even after all of these years that we had little interaction.

"Thank you," I mutter, chuckling. "But this is what I chose. I probably screwed myself over, but what's been done is done. You can't change it now." I dare didn't mention the contract that I signed. If America found out, he would have complained to my boss and we both would probably be dead.

America grimaced. "England," he sighed, looking at the people frequenting the streets. "I would have never expected, even in a million years, that you would let yourself do something like this." He chuckles, kicking a rock that was on the side of the Tube. He glanced at the blinking slot that signaled money to be entered there. He gulps and looks back into my eyes. "You were such a uptight man, last time I remembered. Always clean and proper."

He was right. I was that man. Several years ago, anyway. Who was I now? Hell if I even knew. "I know," I mumble, grinning at the younger man. America takes notice of my grin and furrows his brows.

"You don't care that everyone sees you as a dirty person who sleeps with anyone he sees on the streets?"

I shrug. "I've been doing it for years now. I don't even think a thing about that anymore."

America winced at my retort, and sighed. He took one glance at the money slot on the Tube and unintentionally placed his hand on his wallet. I look at his wandering hand knowingly.

"I can see you hesitating, America."

America jumps, noticing the knowing glare in my eyes. He gives a nervous smile and shakes his head. "You could always see through me, couldn't you?" He chuckles, taking out his wallet. "Well, fuck. How much is it for these things?"

I chuckle and get closer to America as I could, but the Tube stopped me from getting closer. I frown, remembering that I was nothing but a sick "prisoner" in here. I point to the sign on the side of the Tube, and America reads it. Blushing slightly, he sent a twenty into the money slot. The slot took the money willingly, and the door to the Tube shot open with no sound. America gulps and walks inside, slowly. I smile, patting him on the back with comfort.

"Remember, this was your choice. I did nothing."

America nods.

"I know. But I hope I can change your mind about being a prostitute."

And the door shuts silently behind us.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hopefully you all read the beginning. If not, I'll restate it here: It is an experiment chapter. Let me know what you all think in the reviews and I'll see if I'll continue the story. But, also, thank you for taking your time to read this! It means a lot~**


	2. Chapter 2

**I am officially continuing the story. I have gotten a lot of positive reviews and really good constructive criticism. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and alerted the story~**

**In most of the reviews, however, you all were commenting on one common thing-real names. I have, before the first chapter was posted, been thinking about adding the human names in the story as well as keeping their country names as well. So, you may notice once in a while that there will be a human name. I intend on using these real names in the future, however. I know that some of you like the idea of keeping the country names. So I'll just use both to satisfy both sides. **

**From here on out, there will be some...graphic? I guess you could say that-there will be graphic scenes of yaoi. Now, there isn't smut yet, but I can guarantee in the next chapter or two there will be smut. Please enjoy this next chapter~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!**

* * *

I'll be sitting in my Tube some days and watch the other whores across the street. Most of the time, they're pleasing clients. I don't watch out of curiosity, no, but just because they look like they're having so much fun. That piques a lot of interest in me because I don't even feel like I have that much fun spreading my legs. You look at the pleasure-filled faces, their trembling bodies, their rapid thrusting...and they're having fun. And afterward, once they've climaxed, they'll act like nothing happened at all. Then, just a few hours later, that same client will be back for more. Of course, they _are_ just regulars, but it leaves you wondering how in the hell people can be as shallow as that and fuck a whore several times within a day? A month? Hell, a damn _year_? It's amazing humans can just fuck a person that they don't know much about other than the basic information presented on the Tube.

I have regulars as well. Sure, you get to know the person's _cock—_their size, shape, and feel—but you don't get to know the person in general. You can't start a relationship while being a prostitute. You have so many clients and that just takes all of the love away, knowing that the person you are dating is fucking several others. Besides, you wouldn't be having a commitment to the one you love. At that point, you'd just be plain out cheating—while fucking in front of other people, at that!

And that's how it came to be my moral of love involving prostitution—there's just no love at all in prostitution.

No. That's not it, exactly.

It's just meaningless love.

All that there is in prostitution is meaningless sex, meaningless "I love you"'s, and meaningless dreams. I have clients that will moan another person's name during the middle of sex. Names of loved ones, exes—hell, even daughters, sons, cousins; I'm sure I've had every other name moaned in sex rather than my own-

I take that back. There was that one fellow who I remember that moaned my real name in pure bliss.

The man that had accidentally came across my own Tube—America.

Or, to people like me—Alfred Jones.

* * *

I remember when I refused to call America by his actual name. After the Revolution, we always addressed each other by our country names. It was a formal thing that everyone used when they weren't acquainted with one another. It was quite used frequently around everyone else, so we just stuck to it. Why start something new when you were already used to it?

However, that day when America came upon my Tube, I never expected him to use my services. He could have easily used someone else or none at all—and he decided to choose me. Why? I always ask myself. But I figure that I shouldn't question it. It's money, and money makes my boss happy.

I still recall that day thoroughly in my head. America, lost in England, searching for the Meeting house-(It's strange that I wasn't called to that meeting, now that I think about it.)—I remember everything that he said, everything that he did—even what he wore. I could never, ever forget that day in my entire life.

"_I know. But I hope I can change your mind about being a prostitute._"

Those last words before I gave myself to him keep flashing through my head. The seriousness in his tone of voice and the stern look that was on his face somewhat scares me. Does this mean he intends to make me rebel against my boss so I can get away from this sickening "job"? It seems like something America would try to do regardless if I would want him to or not. He's just that kind of person—persistent and headstrong. However, these annoying traits make me happy for some odd reason. I guess it's because the fact that he could be willing to go _that _far as to get me out of this job. Now, however, this is all on my own speculation. What I think may not be what America is actually trying to do.

But, because it's America, I think that's what he's really intending to do.

* * *

"Hey, England."

I give a faint smile. "Well, well." I tap my fingers on the shiny, glinting glass. "What are you doing back here? There can't be another meeting, could there?"

America jumps back a bit, shocked at my sudden interrogation. "Well..." he hesitates. "..no. Of course there isn't." He smiles, chuckling. "You know very well that they don't hold meetings two times in the same country. That just isn't fair to those who are miles upon miles away from England."

I nod, remembering that little "rule" that was mentioned once these meetings were first introduced. "Right you are, America."

America grimaced. "I wish you would call me by my real name."

I reply with a suspicious tone in my voice, "and I wish you would also call me by my own real name, but you seem to only do that while you're moaning in pure bliss."

America furrows his brows and attempts to hide the warm, pinkish tint that started to show on his cream-colored skin. "...What is that supposed to mean?" he tries to ask in a monotone voice. I smile.

"Oh, you know." I pause, glancing at the sign beside the Tube. "So, are you here for _that _again?"

America groans. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." He sighs, looking into my eyes. "Did you think about what I said yesterday?"

So, perhaps he really is trying to get me out of here. I crouch down in the Tube, making myself comfortable by sitting down on my bottom. "I did—quite a lot, actually."

America's eyes did that glinting thing again. I smile as his face lit up with excitement, the corners of his mouth curling up into that stupid grin of his. His hand rests onto the glass of the Tube. "So, have I changed anything?"

I stare at his hand. I think to myself, wondering if what he said really changed my thoughts about prostitution. Sure, maybe what he said really sparked something in me, but I never really felt any different about being a prostitute in general.

America notices my hesitation and frowns. "You're still indifferent?" he asks, horribly hiding the visible sadness in his voice. "You don't feel any change—at all?"

He suddenly seems like a very different person, now. I sigh at his saddened mood and nod. "I've thought about it and thought about it, but it hasn't changed a thing. Though, I do thank you for your consideration." My eyes follow the movement of his hand. From the Tube, it goes to his pocket—the same pocket that holds his wallet. America smiles at me, grabbing the wallet out. He looks at the sign that reads all of the prices for allotted times in the Tube. He takes out another twenty—that's about a half an hour to forty-five minute service. It'll be just as long as yesterday.

"Well, maybe it hasn't changed you this time." He starts as he pushes the money into the blinking slot. "But if I keep coming back, you'll definitely have to change your mind at some point."

He was right about that. If he does keep coming back, I'll have no choice but to give in and rebel. But that's going to take a lot of trips from America to England.

The door slides open silently. I feel the air from outside burst in—the smell of baked scones from the corner of the street scurries its way in as America takes a step into the Tube. It closes behind him.

He looks into my eyes, brushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen onto my face as the day went on. He places his right hand onto my chin, grabbing it with his thumb and pointer finger, and lightly brushes his lips against my own. He takes his other hand and wraps it around my waist, pulling myself closer to him. His warmth radiates around my chilled body and I can feel myself melting into that heat. His lips crash against mine, initiating into a fight between the tongues. He presses his tongue against my own, and I attack back with force. However, this does not stop him as he presses harder against my body, thus pushing his tongue further back into my mouth. I feel myself losing, so I give up and let him explore every nook and cranny inside my mouth. His tongue rubs over the roof of my mouth, and then over all of the teeth on both top and bottom. I let out a little unintentional whimper and push America away.

"Don't you think you're wasting your time?" I ask, heavily breathing. I felt a warm heat rise to my cheeks, forming a faint blush.

America breathes heavily in reply, "We have all the time in the world. I don't want to screw this up."

Before I can object, he pushes me back against the glass and lets his hand wander around my whole body. He starts to gently suck on my neck, making sloppy, wet sounds while he was at it. I tilt my head to the side to give him more space to suck as I gently moan. I take a quick glance to the outside of the Tube and notice the people staring intently. Some still walking on their way to their destination—some stopping to watch the show. I grimace at all of the unwanted attention. America notices this and stops for a minute, staring into my face.

"What's that look for?" he asks. I shrug.

"It's difficult to have a great time when you have all of these pairs of eyes staring at you in the meantime."

America furrows his brows and turns around, only to see everyone was really staring at them. America snorts and turns away, looking back at me. He places a hand against my crotch, earning a breathy sigh.

"Forget about them." He starts to gently rub my cock, his hot breath radiating against my ear at the same time. "Just place your attention to me. Look at me only."

I let myself be captured by America's stunning charm and heartfelt words as I give myself to him yet another time.

* * *

**Author's Note: ****Please review and let me know what you think of this chapter. If you all could-constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I would like to know if I screwed up on something, if I need to add anything...get rid of anything...all that good stuff. So, once again, thanks to all who took their time to read my humble story~ It means a whole lot~**


	3. Chapter 3

**There is a flashback in the beginning of this chapter. However, once the flashback is finished, there will be a very explicit scene. If you do not like these kinds of scenes, please either press back or skip it entirely. I will let you know, however, that this scene plays an important part that will happen in the next chapter or so.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!**

* * *

I think back to the first day I was assigned to my first ever Tube. I remember being scared half to death as I was going into this job blind. They had explained everything I needed to know about how to conduct my Tube and how to be a whore in general. There were three major rules that they wanted us to abide by so they could get more money:

One-Pretend you are having fun even if you really aren't having fun.

Two-Don't reject a customer regardless of how rough or boring he is.

And, of course, the big third one-

Act like the biggest whore as you can.

"_Practice and abide by these rules and you'll get the hang of it in no time_," my boss explained as he opened the door of my Tube with a universal key that could open any Tube door. "_The first few may be difficult because you're new—like a newborn coming into the real world_." I winced at the horrible metaphor he used to compare prostitution to a newborn. "_After that first difficult few, you'll be like a professional._" His blonde hair blows in the light wind as we stare at each other for a minute. It was as if he could sense the fear welling up within me. He patted my shoulder. "_Come on, you're a strong nation. There's no way that you could be that scared. You've been through wars and surely near death a couple of times—prostitution isn't anywhere a hazard near that._"

"_A-all right_," I stammered, looking at the degrading Tube in front of me. It was placed right by a pub—how inconvenient for beginner like me. My boss looked at me for a minute. I stared back at him, wondering how in bloody hell he can stand in the heat like this dressed in a black suit. However, that was the least bit on my mind.

"_Say_," he started, sitting on the bench next to the Tube. He motioned for me to sit next to him. I sighed with relief knowing that I don't have be imprisoned for the rest of the day yet. I took an empty seat next to him and watched the passersby walk to their jobs or watch couples walking down the street back home to endure in a night's worth of sweet love-making. I smiled at how cute the couples were, knowing even a few of them myself. My boss continued with what he was started to say, "_what in the world made you decide to become a whore_?" he asked with curiosity in his voice. I didn't think he would ask, so it's normal that I am surprised at his question. He looked at me, noticing my shocked expression. He chuckled, patting my back. "_It isn't supposed to surprise you_."

I shrugged, enjoying his friendly gesture. "_I guess I don't really know._"

Now it was my boss's turn to be shocked, this time. His face turned to me, his eyebrows raised with question. "_You don't know? You're a nation—a flourishing one at that—and you have absolutely no clue why you went into prostitution? Now that's a first._" He chuckled and shook his head. "_There has to be a reason._"

I sat there at the bench, thinking of any reason at all why I wanted to go into prostitution. I do remember walking through the streets of England and realizing that these horrible Prostitution Tubes were all over the place. As I would watch the people in the Tube from afar, they would look like they were having so much fun. I suppose that false but yet appealing idea is what caught my attention, but for me to actually bring it up to my boss to go into prostitution—I don't know why I did it. I probably should have just kept to myself and went along with my daily job of taking care of my country's affairs. It's bad enough that I'm actually risking myself, a nation, to sell out my body like that to people who are inhabitants.

I looked into my boss's eyes again, clasping my hands together. "_I really don't know why I chose this. I suppose it looked like everyone else was having fun, so why not_?"

At this, my boss hissed and shook his head. "_That's what's going to screw you over in the end, Arthur_." His hand clasped my shoulder. "_You realize prostitution isn't all about fun. Oh, Lord, it isn't anywhere near fun at all_." He sits back, frowning. "_It's like peer pressure—you've fallen for it. Those other whores aren't having fun. Most of them are working for money so they can take care of their demanding kids. They may be rich enough already, but most of their kids just take and take the money __and use it for whatever they wish._" He paused, contemplating his thoughts for a moment. "_However, it's all up to you. I'm not going to say whether or not you should stick with your decision, but you are a nation—you have everything you could possibly ever want. Granted the work may be as boring as watching a small slug cross a large highway, but everything is to your expense and you wouldn't be in trouble for it!_" I don't really know what to think anymore about this man's crazy metaphors, but he was indeed right. However, I shook my head.

"_I just want to do it. I won't disappoint you_." I nod, clasping his hand into mine, and then getting up to head to my Tube. "_I'm ready_."

There was a look of uncertainty on his face, but he sighed and stood up from the bench. I walked into the Tube and he closed the door and locked it. "_Just remember—this was all your choice. I didn't force you_." He pulled the key out of the lock and pointed at me. "_We'll also have a fake occupation presented on the holographic information on your Tube. And make sure you tell no one that you are a nation. You know how much of a bad reputation that will give you_?"

I nodded. "_I know, I know. It's the same old thing we do everyday. I'm sure I can keep the secret to myself just as I did before._"

My boss nodded, smiling. "_All right. Well, I wish you luck, Arthur. I'll see you later._"

He walked to his car that was parked along side the street. I watch him drive away, but seeing him drive away like that made me feel alone and solitary.

* * *

I still think back to that very day when I'm not busy. The way my boss was so nice and sparing, the first place he chose for me to be stationed at, even the way he talked—it was really weird. I never understood, nor will I ever understand, why he would act so nice like that. Normally he just moans and complains over the pile of work that I haven't even started on or something about a law not passing that should have been passed—seeing him act like that on the day he introduced me to my first ever Tube was like talking to a complete stranger. I feel a warmth radiating around my breast and I smile to myself. If only I saw him more than I do now. Seeing him act like that made me like him a lot more than I used to—however, he comes every once a week to see how I am doing and to collect the money from the Tube. The only other time I get to see him is when I come back from a World Meeting so he can let me back in my Tube.

I wonder what he's doing now?

I shake my thoughts away when someone walks up to my Tube. He must be at least six feet tall because he towers me. His shadow casts over me as I look up at him with a distinct feeling of fear. His grin is savage—the hunger swarming around his eyes. He licks his lips seductively, taking my figure whole figure in with one glance of his eyes. He places a hand on the side of the Tube, smirking. "How much?" his deep, husky voice gives me chills all over my body. I look up into that tan face of his, glaring into his dark green eyes. I point to the side of the Tube, trying to stop the trembling in my arm as I do so. He glances over at the sign, smiling. "Well," he pulls out a whopping fifty bucks. I tremble, holding back my surprise. Fifty bucks gets him however long he wants with me. He could do anything with me during that time. I shake my head, trying to act confident so I can do my job. But, as the door to the Tube opens, I can feel my face growing pale. He places his hand on my shoulder, bending down to kiss me roughly on the lips. He pries my lips open with his hand, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I shake my head, attempting to push my head away from him so he could stop. I start to whimper, the tears filling in my eyes as no sign of backing away were apparent. He pulls back, grabbing the back of my head. "Don't object me. You're a whore, remember?" He brings his mouth closer to my ear and whispers, "So do what you're supposed to do, slut."

He throws me against the back of the Tube and rips my clothes off. I hold back my desperate cries of help and let him do whatever he wished with me. He grabs the back of my head once more as he unbuttons his jeans with his free hand. His large erection slips out of his boxers, leaving me in great fear. He plans on putting that in me? I know I'll be ripped apart.

Regardless of what rules I promised I would abide by, I pushed him back again. "No!" I scream as loud as I can. "Please, stop it!" I struggle within his grasp, but he only scoffs at my desperate but weak plead.

"You think manners will get you anywhere?" He smirks and roughly pulls my hair to direct my head to his now dripping cock. My eyes dart up to his own intimidating eyes. He jerks my head, bringing my mouth closer. "You don't want it to hurt, do you?" He coos, acting as if he was really concerned. But then, after he said this, he smirked. "Oh wait, you're a whore—I'm sure you've taken almost everything and anything up that large hole of yours." He chuckles, forcing open my mouth with his free hand and he thrusts himself deep into my mouth. He groans with pleasure at the sudden burst of radiating heat enveloped around his dick. After a quick second, he pushes my head to his cock in time with his thrusts. I feel hot tears blur my vision as the larger man's engorged rod thrusts itself deep down into my throat. My saliva is forced out of my mouth, big droplets dripping onto the floor of the Tube. I start to gag, attempting to force the large erection out of my mouth—but to no avail. I can feel hot tears forming in my eyes as I wish for Satan to come already and take me away. I grow even more alert by the second as I can start to feel his dick throb intensely. I feel a sinking feeling in my stomach, knowing what's about to happen. I try to pull away but the man keeps a tight hold of my head and keeps pushing it towards his dick. "You're not done yet," he moans, chuckling. "You have to swallow-" he starts to say but is immediately cut off by his own orgasm. His dick explodes in my mouth, sending the white seed deep down into my throat. I pull away, attempting to spit out the rest that hadn't gone directly down my throat. However, the man stops and pushes my cheeks in with his hands, forcing me to swallow the hot, salty, sticky substance. I whimper as I have no other choice but to swallow the intruding liquid. He chuckles with satisfaction and turns me around with so much force that my head almost crashes into the glass of the Tube.

Then, without any warning, he roughly thrusts into me. Because his dick is larger than anyone else I have ever had, I scream bloody murder with pain. He grasps tightly onto my neck, groaning with pleasure. "You know, for a whore, you're really tight." he breathes, pushing me against the glass now. I groan with pain at the object being thrust into me and the fact that my whole body is exposed to everyone outside. I furrow my brows as the passersby had noticed the scene and stopped to express their pleasure in the form of masturbation.

I try to make myself go to a faraway place that only I know and that no one like this bulky, forcing man can intrude.

* * *

**Author's Note: There will be more scenes like the one above, I can tell you all that right now. D: So I apologize to those who have a strong dislike for scenes such as that one.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and just like always-please let me know how I did with a review and if you want-suggest ideas. Whatever you would like~**

**Thanks~**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own!**

**Also, please keep in mind that this chapter will be in America's point of view.**

* * *

"Hey,"

I watch the smaller man jump. It seems as if he was lost in thought prior to my greeting. I give him a smile. "What's up?"

England looks around frantically, grimacing all the while. I furrow my brows, looking even closer at his now exposed neck. Am I imagining things? That certainly can't be...

"Alfred." England mutters. I gasp, barely able to hold back my surprise.

"You..said my name?" I didn't really ask—it was just a statement of shock. Since when does England, of all people, call me by my real name? Something really went up while I was gone since the last time I was here. "What's wrong?"

England jumps, fear apparent in his eyes. He had been laying down uncomfortably on his side this whole time, so maybe he was sleeping? But those marks...

"Hey, you're all jumpy and shit." I frown. "What happened?"

England shakes his head. "It's nothing. What do you want?" he bitterly replied.

I don't like his tone. Normally he's flirty and willing to talk. Now it's like I'm seeing a whole different person—he knows that I want to change his mind. Surely that can't be what's bothering him this whole time. He has been thinking about it a lot lately, though.

"Please tell me what's wrong?" I ask, hoping he will cooperate and tell me what's up. However, it doesn't look like it's working. He only stayed silent, drawing imaginary pictures on the floor of the Tube. I groan, finally going with a last resort. "I'm coming in."

At that, England gasps. "No, wait-"

Before he could object, I inserted a ten in the Tube—that earns me fifteen minutes. That's just enough time to figure out his problem. The Tube door slowly opens as England's body grows more tense. "I told you not to enter!" he exclaims, shaking his head. However, I ignore his cries and enter of my own free will. I get closer to the timid guy, looking at his body. I can't really see anything under his clothing, anyway...

"Get the hell away from me!" He screams, kicking my shin as he tries to push me away as much as he can even though we're in this small ass Tube. I hold England's arm, attempting to stop him. England jumps and then starts to pull his arm away. "Let go! —Please!" He pulls as hard as he can, and finally I let go. He runs into the back of the Tube from the force of his pulling, so he slides to the floor slowly. He starts to sob. "Please, just go. I don't want to be bothered right now."

I stare at the trembling mess that is England. I can't help but feel terrible for the man—I'm really inconsiderate when it comes to things like this. I sigh, sitting down next to England. I hesitate before putting my arm around him, but once I do—England welcomes the gesture. I frown, pulling the sobbing Englishman into a tight embrace. I can feel my right shoulder start to get damp but I ignore it. What matters right now is not my thoughts or feelings, but only England's. I lift the man's face up, staring into his tear-stricken green eyes. I shake my head, frowning. "Why are you crying? What happened?"

England sniffs and makes an incoherent mumble. My brows furrow as I try to understand what he said but I couldn't make out the words. I gently rub his back, trying to calm him down. "It's all right. You can tell me—I won't ridicule you for it."

England sobs once more, shaking his head. He whispered, "I don't want to do this anymore. It's way worse than what I thought."

"What happen?" I whispered back into his ear. I take a glance at the watch around my wrist and groan. "I don't have much time left."

"There are disgusting men out there, Alfred." He grimaces.

"I've known that." I frown. "You're just now figuring this out?"

"No, I've known as well." He shakes his head and sits up. "But there are seriously those crazy men that should have never been born into this world."

I slowly nod. "But why are you crying?" I am completely clueless as to what he is trying to get at. I kiss his cheek and look into his eyes. "What is it?"

England glances towards the ground of the Tube and shudders. "Earlier today," he starts as he tries to hold back a sob, "there was a man that came here."

I nod. "And?"

"Well, he obviously used my service. He was this tall, big, burly man that could intimidate even the gutsiest person on Earth. He was tan and had that player-kind-of-feeling about him. He put a fifty into the Tube," He pauses. I take this time to figure out how long a fifty gives someone. A twenty gives a person a half an hour to forty minutes. A thirty is about an hour to an hour and half—I frown. I don't have a clue as to how long a fifty is. England notices my confusion and sighs. "That's however long a client wants."

I shake my head. "All right. Continue."

England nods, grimacing at the same time. "The door opened and he forces himself onto me..." England keeps recalling the incident earlier. "It was rape, America." He holds back another sob and shakes his head. "Rape. I never thought it would happen.." He drifts off in thought. I hold back my shock, but I'm sure it was apparent. "And, get this—People that were walking by thought it was pretty hot."

I grimace. "That's fucking sick." is all I can say to him. However, I pull him closer to me and hold him tight. "I'm really sorry—I...don't really know what to say."

England shakes his head. "I understand."

We sat there for what felt like a while as I held him in my embrace. Everything was silent. While we sat in that embrace, it felt like time itself had stopped completely.

I jumped when the Tube door opened. I frown, knowing it's time to go. I know I could just add more money, but I have other things to do revolving work. It's bad enough that I took fifteen minutes out of what was supposed to be work time—but I wanted to see this man.

I lift England's head up and plant a soft kiss on his lips. I pull back and jump up, smiling. "Put a smile on that face, all right? I understand what you just went through was traumatizing, but I really hate seeing you like that. You look a lot better with a smile." England chuckles, nodding at the same time. "I love you." I add in.

Then, England's face grows stern. He intently stares into my eyes.

"I...love you, too."

* * *

**Author's Note: Short chapter~ ;A; However, school is over in a couple of days so a lot more will be posted~ Just the Finals and then I'm out of there (Until Band Camp /shot)**

**I apologize for the seemingly boring chapter. Reviews are greatly appreciated, however~**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Don't own!**

* * *

I have a recurring dream every night when I head to bed after a long day's worth of work. Once I rest myself into my fluffy, comfortable bed, I just have the same dream over and over again—so many times, in fact, that I remember it perfectly. If it weren't for America showing up at my Tube that one day, this wouldn't have happened.

It starts out like the balcony scene in Shakespeare's very well-known tragedy called _Romeo and Juliet_. Taking the place of Juliet, I'm resting my head in my hands while looking into the starry night sky. I am sitting there, thinking how wonderful it would be to live a normal life and how nice it would be to have only one lover. Then, I hear the rustling of some leaves somewhere on the ground. My attention is drawn towards America, who is taking the place of Romeo. Once he makes himself shown, he confesses his love to me and explains how much he would like to take me somewhere else so we could be together without complications. My family, however, does not like that idea. So we make a secret plan—and by tomorrow morning, I am gone and my family has no clue where I am.

Though that is definitely not how the _Romeo and Juliet_ tragedy plays out, it certainly seems similar to it. It's like America is the Hero (in which he claims he is every day, so that works out perfectly) and I'm the damsel in distress. It is a dream that I wish would become reality.

But, when I wake up every morning, I look around the room. My hopes and feelings are crushed immediately once I realize that I'm still in my same room every morning. Then my whole day is literally ruined. A man can't help but dream, can he? Certainly there's no problem at all. People dream about things that they want to happen, but most of the time it never comes true.

Now, let me talk about nightmares. Nightmares are the most horrible things to experience once you drift into sleep. Ever since the unlucky day that the big bulky man had visited my Tube, I would have at least one nightmare every other night. It was a traumatic experience—how could I ever let it go? Even though I so desperately want to...

However, that's how my nights are. Sleep full of realistic dreams and nightmares that I wish I never experience in the first place.

It's all His fault, though.

* * *

"When are you going to talk to your boss, England?" America sighs once he stops in front of my Tube on a sunny afternoon. I chuckle.

"I told you that it's not that easy. I'm bound to a contract, remember?" I tap the glass. "It's practically impossible to break that contract."

America groans. "Bring me in with you when you talk to your boss. I'll talk to him and explain to him everything and anything that it takes so he'll let you be free." He smiles, fixing his bomber jacket that had somehow happened to get tangled up on the bottom. "Besides, you're a country. Being a country practically gives you infinite power to use for yourself. You could easily go in there and say 'I want to quit otherwise I'll kill myself and the whole country of England will be nonexistent!'"

I giggled. "That's cute, but I'm sorry. Threats don't work with them."

"Well, if they want a dead country..." America drifts off in thought. I grimace.

"No. I'm not even attempting it."

America chuckles. "I was just messing with you." He yawns. "Sometime soon, though, we really need to talk with your boss. Seriously—just an attempt won't hurt."

I nod. "I suppose you're right. I'll let you know a specific day when I'll go in."

America nods, the crazy strand piece of hair bobbing up and down as he did so. "I wish we had another thing to do other than spend time in a Tube together." America sighs, shaking his head. That strand now bobs side to side. His blue orbs stare into my green ones. "It's the same old same old every day."

"I understand-" I pause, a feeling of realization dawning on me. "Wait a minute. Are you implying that I'm boring to have sex with?"

America's eyes widen. "No!" He exclaims, shaking his head again. "No, nonono. I didn't mean anything by that." He chuckles. "Having sex with you is like..." he pauses, thinking of something he could use to compare to our sex adventures. "-Well, you know what I mean!"

I chuckle, covering my mouth as I start to laugh a little harder. "You're a moron, you know that?"

"Hey!" America's eyes looked hurt. "I'm trying my best, here, and this is the thanks I get?" He pauses to get his voice prepared for an imitation of mine. "'_You're a moron, you know that?_" He sighs.

"I don't sound like that..." I frown, placing a hand on my throat. "Do I?"

"No," America waves his hand with an air of dismissal. "You're a naïve one."

I sigh and lean my back against the back of the Tube. "Well, we can't just stand here and talk. It's either you pay or you leave so others don't think this one is off limits."

America groaned. He pulls out his wallet and takes out a twenty. It's been the same amount of time every day. I suppose he doesn't really have the time anymore to waste on his own free will. I giggle. "Well, well."

"I want to spend more time with you, so don't say anything!" He complains, sliding the twenty into the money slot. "Besides, I'm sure you're happier with me than you are with any other random stranger on the street, so be lucky that I'm saving you from the others during this time!"

The Tube door opens silently and America walks in. "I suppose you-" I start to say but can't finish because I was cut off by America's lips crashing onto mine. I start to feel my heart thump like crazy—I've never felt like this before. Even when I dated France that one time, I never felt this much like a flustered school girl watching her crush from afar.

"America-" I moan in between sloppy kisses. "Wait a minute."

"What?" America breathes, looking into my eyes. "What's wrong?"

I shuffle uncomfortably in America's tight embrace. "All we do anymore is have sex.."

"We just talked about this." America sighed. "I realize that it's a very low thing to do, but that's all we can do right now. It's not like you can walk right out of this Tube with me so we can do whatever we wish. Your boss would be so pissed."

"Exactly." I groan, shaking my head. "I'm tired of having sex all the time when I already am forced to do it everyday. I just want to sit and spend time with you—just talk about daily problems and share stories. Just like other couples do..."

America pulls out of the embrace and chuckles. "I understand."

"You do?" I ask with a hint of surprise in my voice. America nods.

"Of course. You're right—we should be like a normal couple. Granted that we're as oddball as it can get—but we'll make it work. Whatever we can do to save our relationship, right?"

My jaw drops. Usually he's a persistent little bugger, but he gave in just like that. "So...we can sit here and talk?"

America plops down on the ground of the Tube, patting his hand on the ground, indicating that I should sit right there. "We sure can." America smiles. "I'm not going to act inconsiderate when it comes to someone like you, _Arthur. _I love you and I care about everything you think, wish, et cetera." My heart thumps louder than before. "So, let's talk for whatever time we have left, all right?"

My eyes start to pool. My lip starts to tremble as I stare at this wonder of a man. He's like a different man—and I'm glad he's way more considerate than he ever was before. It makes me wonder how he changed like that. I sit down next to America and pull him into a tight embrace.

"_Alfred_," I start, saying his actual name, "I..I love you, so much."

America gasps and then wraps his arms around me. "I love you so much, too."

And we sat there for the rest of the time. We talked about various things—mostly about our country's affairs—but it was a lovely conversation to have rather than to fuck each other all the time.

America jumped up when it was the end of our time. The Tube door opened silently to let him out. I grab him by the sleeve of his bomber jacket before he could get out. America stops in his tracks, turning around to look me in the eyes. "What's wrong?"

I smile. "When's the next World Meeting? I don't have a schedule with me."

I let go of his sleeve and he ponders for a minute. "The next one? Hm...I believe that's next Saturday. It'll be held in Russia. Why do you ask?"

I nod. "Perfect." America looks at me with pure confusion. I giggle, patting America on the back. "I've been thinking about a day when we should talk to my boss. So, after that World Meeting is done, we'll head back over here to talk to my boss about my 'retiring' from the Tube."

America's eyes lit up with excitement. He put on his goofy grin and nodded. "Sounds like a great idea. Today is Wednesday so we don't have much longer to wait. It'll go by fast."

"You're right," I agree, smiling. "Well, you better get going. Stuff to do, right?"

"Unfortunately." America sighs. "I'll see you tomorrow. I love you,"

"I love you too," I reply, and the Tube door close.

I watch him walk away. I smile, chuckling as I sit back down in the Tube.

I love that man.

I really do.

* * *

**Author's Note: Yay~ School's off~ I can write more often now. **

**However, reviews are greatly appreciated~ Thank you all for reading~**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own!**

**Please keep in mind that this chapter starts out with an explicit scene. **

* * *

"...Alice!"

I whimper as he pounds his dick into me senselessly. The strange man chuckles as he buries his head into my neck and leaves a trail of dark marks all over the bare skin. He whispers in my ear, "Do you like to be fucked like this?" He groans and squeezes my ass. "You're a whore, yet you have such a tight ass. It's quite a pleasuring feeling."

I shake my head as I stare at the heartless passersby who were watching intently. The man behind me thrusts into me one last time and hisses with pleasure, "Alice...I love you!" I feel myself fill up to the brim slowly and try to ward off that disgusting feeling. The man exhales deeply and notices my neglected member.

"I suppose I can do this for you since you lent me your body for the time being." His husky voice rings in my ear. The sound of cap being popped open sounds throughout the Tube. The cap is closed, and then I feel a big, burly hand grasp my dick firmly. I jump from the sudden contact as I hold in my moan. He rests his chin on my shoulder as I hunch over, using the glass for balance. My legs start to tremble and he keeps me up by holding my torso up. "You're really sensitive," he notes. "However, I bet you're begging for release..."

He starts to pump my dick back and forth furiously. I let out a throaty sigh as he slicks the slimy substance that is lube all over—it makes the feeling even more pleasurable. I lean into the man's arms and start to shudder. He gives a low chuckle. "Wow, you're really near. Normally, whores can hold out as long as they please. At this rate, you're like a virgin. It's really attractive..." He rants on and on. I block his voice out of my mind and think of only the pleasure. And then, instead of this man's hand on my dick—I replace it with America's. I imagine that the person I'm leaning against right now is America's big, manly body and that his large, burly hands were stroking me. I let out a whimper once I realize that I'm about to explode—I keep America's image in my head.

"Aah-!" I scream as my seed spills into the man's hand. I feel the man's body behind me shake as he was laughing.

"That was fast—You are really cute, you know that?" He whispers into my ear. I breathe heavily as the effects of my orgasm wash over me. "I'm ready for another round. How about you?"

I barely comprehend him. I'm ready to sleep—I don't want to be in this Tube for the rest of the day.

"Hey, Engl-" I hear a voice start, but then he pauses. "...Arthur?"

My tired eyes dart up to the man in front of me outside of the Tube. His face contorted into a frown once he saw the scene displayed before him. I must have looked like a mess and there was probably semen all over me from our previous activities. America waved at me and with a smile he said, "I believe your turn is about over here, sir." He was talking to the man in here with me.

"Huh?" He asks, taking a glance of the clock inside the Tube. He cursed and shook his head. "I...suppose you're right." He stood up and buckled his belt. He glares at America as he did so and waited for the Tube to open. He turns around to me and smirks. "I'll be back again tomorrow."

And with that, he brushes by America, and he's gone. I gulp—this strange man could most likely be a new regular.

I don't like regulars, other than America.

America puts the usual amount of money in the slot and barges into the Tube. "You're a huge mess."

I blush, nodding slightly. "It seems so."

A shadow crosses America's face. "It really pisses me off to see another man taking advantage of you." He sighs, "Granted that it can't be helped..."

"I-I know," I stammer, "but, just think—only a few more days until Saturday. If we can convince my boss to let me go—you won't see me fooling around with another man ever again."

America smiles. "I know." He pulls me into an awkward embrace. "Sorry but you're really sweaty and covered in semen. I'd rather not stain my suit..."

"It's fine," I giggle, wrapping my arms around without resting my arms on his suit.

* * *

"England, it has come to my attention that Mr. America wanders around your Tube often."

I start to shift uncomfortably in my seat. I stare into my boss's eyes. They looked back into mine. I shiver, resisting the urge to shake my head. "Yes?" I ask, attempting to keep a poker face.

"Well..." He starts, sighing. "America is...a mischievous one, don't you agree?"

I gulp, nodding.

"I have this bad feeling about him." He chuckles. "America likes to do things that are insane. Do you understand?"

I nod. "I do, sir."

He leans back in his chair. "He isn't feeding you any kind of...insane plans, is he?"

I hold back my fear. "No, sir. He has not been planning anything of some sort."

"You're not lying, are you?" He glares into my pale face as he sits forward, leaning on his hands. "Because I can see through people easily, and right now, you look as if you're about to shit yourself."

I chuckle, sitting back in my own chair. "Sir, I have no clue what you are talking about."

He stares at me for a few minutes, observing my body. "...I'll let you go this time."

I hold back my sigh of relief. He watches me carefully. "But please don't go and do as you please. You do realize that you are under a contract? You signed it the first day."

"I remember."

He chuckles. "You're still a man of many words, aren't you?" He waves his hand. "You may head home now. Good job today. Keep it up."

"Sir," I address him and get up out of my seat to head home.

"Wait," He starts. I stop walking and turn around.

"Remember—the World Meeting is this Saturday. Instead of heading directly to your Tube in the morning, you are going to board the airplane with me really early."

I nod. "All right, sir. Thank you."

I exit his room and I almost giggle with success.

How am I really going to bring up this 'resignation' with my boss?

He knows something is definitely up.

He's just sitting there, waiting for the day when I want to quit. He knows that I want to.

Hell, he knows everything.

* * *

**Author's Note: Guess who finished this chapter at 4:30 in the morning? This tired girl right here did. That's right. *dies***

**A lot of procrastination came with this chapter. I started to get busy with Band practices and my best friend stayed here for two nights and she never gives me time to write XDD I finally decided at like 3 in the morning to finish this chapter and, with a lot of fatigue, finally did!**

**I don't mean to rant, but I am so pissed! I had a one-shot lemon under the category of Homestuck posted up on here and it was pretty popular. Well, because of my stupidity, it was deleted because of the inappropriate summary. Well..it did contain like 3 F bombs. ;A; So, because of that, I read the Guideline to FF and now know not to post inappropriate summaries! :D**

**And that's how my week went.**

**However, review and let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the late update. I've been real busy and FFNet has been cracking down on stories that are definitely MA rated. I'm worried that my stories are going to be deleted [or most of them, anyway] so I have devised a plan. I created an account on yourfanfiction dot com. My stories will be posted there, so you can read them there if my stories should ever be deleted. Also, I am thinking about creating a Livejournal account and I'll post them there as well. Maybe a Tumblr as well...**

**Anyway, sorry for late update and short chapter. I was very hesitant to continue this because I don't have much time anymore. ;A; I apologize!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!**

**This chapter starts in America's point of view and then it goes into Third Person after the transition.**

* * *

"He knows, America."

I freeze in mid-air as I walk into the Tube. "What?"

England sighs. "I mean—he has a pretty good idea. He called me into his office last night and right off the bat asked if we were up to no good." He leans against the glass of the Tube. "I just don't understand how he can assume, without any clues, that we're planning something."

I plop down on the floor. "Well, most we can do is just wait until Saturday."

England sits next to me, shaking his head. "Another thing he mentioned was the contract. He's still hell-bent on that thing. He won't let me go because I'm bound to it."

"We'll figure something out." I rest my arm on England's shoulders. "I'll fight for you as a last resort. Hell, I'll even declare war and bring all of my troops to beat his ass." I pause and notice the look of worry on his face. "This is wrong, what your boss is doing. Prostitution shouldn't be a job that calls for a contract—you should be will to quit whenever you wish. Who cares if you bring in the most money? It's your life—do with it as you wish."

England's eyes start to tear up. "...I know." He looks down at his fumbling hands.

"You're part of choosing what laws pass and what laws don't pass. I'm sure you let this Prostitution law pass without thinking what he might slip in, right?"

England shuffles uncomfortably. "...Yes." he shakily whispers.

I pat his back as I comfort him. "Don't worry—I'm not getting angry. It's just that you're too oblivious to what people will do to get what they want. This world's a nasty place, and it's a shame to see the people that run it. That's why, as a country, you have to foresee all of those sneaky slips and correct them. I admit that I'm not perfect—hell, America might as well be the dumbest country on Earth with the way we're going right now. Nobody is perfect, so it's natural that we screw up something once in a while." I give him a smile and lift England's chin up so I can look him in the eye.

England shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"What?" I ask, frowning. "You don't have to be sorry. You're the leader of your country—You don't have to apologize to me, of all people. If anything, apologize to your people-" I pause. "Hell, I don't think they're even mad about this law. If anything, they're enjoying it to its full extent. Shit, two men fucking in public? Most people are up for that 'cause it's a taboo so it's not spoken much or seen of. ...The country of England is breaking two taboos at once, you realize that?"

"...We are?" He asks as his eyes grow wide. "I know prostitution is a taboo..."

"Homosexuality is a taboo as well." I smile. "Two taboos, not to mention rape, so that would make three. Just about three taboos, Arthur."

England throws himself against the back of the glass. "That's a lot, huh?" He chuckles. "Bloody hell."

We sit in silence for the rest of the time.

As I get up, England reaches for my hand. I stop and give him a look. "What?"

"...Take me with you."

I gasp. "Are you serious?" He nods his head and chuckles. "...Wait, _what_?"

"Are you confused?" He asks me, "...I thought I voiced my request clear enough to understand." He pulls me into a tight embrace. "I want to go with you," he whispers into my ear.

I stare with horror at this man. "But..that would ruin everything we were planning! You would have to go into hiding! Your boss would be _pissed!"_

"Oh yeah, I understand." England nods, "and I'm tired of waiting. Not to mention that it seems that he will never let me go if I wish."

I hesitate for a minute. I mean—yeah, I want him to come with me. He shouldn't be trapped here against his will, even if he did insist on doing it anyway. But there was no way we could get out of this easily.

"...If you wish."

* * *

"I want Squads 1 and 2 to search in the Town Square of London!" The boss barked into the phone. "He couldn't have gotten too far within an hour."

"Yes, sir."

He slams the phone onto the receiver. "Goddamn it!" He slicks his hair back. "I knew he wanted to leave, but I didn't expect him to just up and leave." The boss paces back and forth in his office. "It's that American's fault. If he never came to England's Tube upon accident, this would have never sparked an interest in Arthur."

"Sir," the phone's intercom rang, "England cannot be found anywhere. What would you like us to do next?"

"Just call off the search! We won't find him here."

"As you wish, sir."

"America," he groans.

"You are one tough bugger." He grins to himself.

"It's quite the challenge, but I will get him back."

He eyes the drawer in his desk that holds a lethal device.

"I'll use my last resort if I have to..."

* * *

**Author's Note: Bah! I didn't really like how I wrote this last part but I wanted to include it. This is such a short chapter! I'll make up for it in the next chapter, though. Hopefully you all read what I wrote up there. D:**

**I finished a couple of anime because I'm staying at my sister's place for a month o.o My brother is always on the laptop and I figure, "Why not? I'll write the chapter later~" ;A; Bad mistake. Anyway, I recommend you all watch Mirai Nikki/The Future Diary. SUCH A GOOD ANIME! Though, it's very similar to the Hunger Games because the anime is about a survival game. Just check it out :D**

**I also finished Persona 4: The Animation T^T I wanted to cry. I'm actually a quarter of the way through of Blue Exorcist/Ao no Exorcist. Watch that too~**

**Sorry for my rant. I hope you all liked this _short _chapter. Apologies! **

**Thanks, you all~**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!**

**Keep in mind that the first and second parts are in England's point of view, the third one is in third person, back to England, and then in third person once again. I apologize for the several views changed, but it is important to the story.**

* * *

Why I decided to leave the Tube under a very strict contract, I have no bloody clue. As we hop from place to place in the US, I regret my decision immensely. I mentally hit myself across the head for letting myself choose such an absurd action.

I lean against the head of the car seat and heave a sigh. America notices and looks at me from the corner of his eye and frowns. "What's wrong?"

"Why did you let me do this?"

America sighs and keeps his eyes directly on the road. "You persisted. It's not like I _wanted _to do this. You were the one who told me you couldn't leave in the first place because of the damn contract."

That's right.

"Fuck..." I mumble under my breath and look out the window. I haven't been here for the longest time—everything has changed. I see new buildings that weren't here before, I see old ones starting to crumble away—It has been a while. New York is really an interesting place, now.

"...I can take you back, if you want me to." America comments. I shake my head rapidly.

"No, nonono," I start, frowning, "if I go back now, I'll surely be punished—_severely._ My boss said he wouldn't do that to me—because I'm a country—but after this..." I sigh, "He'll hate my guts."

America chuckles as he turns down a road. "I wouldn't doubt it. I've seen him before and he didn't look like a constant happy-go-lucky man." He nods. "Let's just hope he doesn't track us down this easily. After checking England, he'll come and check here—no doubt about it." He pauses, thinking before he speaks, "We'll have to travel to a different country. If anything, we can settle in Japan, or something. We have pretty good relations with him right now, and it's not like I'm about to do anything rash to his country." He shudders, probably remembering the horrible clashes him and Japan have had in the past. "You and Japan are pretty close friends, so he'll have no problem with you."

I nod. "I suppose you are right. But will Japan really let us live with him?" I shake my head. "Once he finds out that we're hiding from my boss, Japan will have to tell his boss. I bet you that my boss has alerted _most _of the nation's leaders. They'll surely keep an eye out for us—he probably wants us captured and sent back to England."

America chuckles. "Don't you worry about that. I'll convince Japan—somehow. Japan maybe old and wise, but at least he's easily convinced. If anything, I'll bribe him—or something—to keep his mouth shut. In return, we can try and help his country out." He shrugs. "We may not be much help, but we can do what we can."

I sigh, unsure of this plan. "...It may work..."

"Don't worry, dude!" America nods. "It will surely work—you can count on me!"

* * *

We stop at the airport in New York City. We have packed nothing at all—so it may seem a little odd—but we'll get through it. America has already bought two tickets, so now all we have to do is board the plane and we'll be on our way.

We get to the booth where our plane is being boarded by several other people. America and I wait in line—and about a half an hour later of impatience—we get to the front. America lays the two tickets on the desk and nods, "Hello, ma'am."

The attendant behind the desk nods as she takes the tickets and registers that we are headed to Japan. "Have a great flight, both of you."

"Thanks," we mumble back in reply and take the stubs of our tickets. As we wait in line to board the plane, another attendant on the side helps people in the plane. He watches everyone, keeping a close eye on anything suspicious. As he spots us, a shadow crosses his face. I watch the attendant closely myself, wondering if he noticed that we are the runaway nations. I look up to America's face, but he is completely oblivious to the attendant's recognition. I sigh—I'm probably imagining things again.

"Have a safe flight," the attendant mumbles to us once we get to the front. We both nod, giving him our thanks.

* * *

"I've found them, sir." The attendant talks into a walkie-talkie.

"They're headed for Japan."

* * *

"These seats are godawful!" I whine as I can't find a comfortable position to sit in. "I've never liked traveling in planes. The service is horrible and it's difficult to get around. ...Not to mention the goddamn seats!"

America chuckles, shaking his head. "Calm down, calm down. Get used to it. We're on the run—you have to deal with whatever obstacles are in the way." He pauses. "The seats aren't _that _uncomfortable..."

I close my eyes and lean back, sitting in the most comfortable way I could find. My back is twisted to the side, but my legs face the front. I'm staring into America's bomber jacket, the brown leather staring back at me. America's hand plays a tune on the arm rest of the chair. ...It sounds very similar to the National Anthem. I roll my eyes—Of course.

I fall asleep, the last thing I remember is the same attendant that was outside collecting the stubs of our tickets.

* * *

"Let all the nations and their leaders know that America and England are on the run." England's boss talks into the phone. "I want Japan to be on the lookout—that is where they are headed."

"All right, sir." The man on the other end agrees. "Are you sure that they will comply with us?"

The boss chuckles. "Of course—we are on good terms with each other. Japan has what I want, and in return—I'll give him what he wants. It's a sure thing."

"Whatever you say, sir. I'll let them know."

The other end clicks. The boss sits his phone down on the receiver. He smiles with sweet success.

"We'll have you cornered—there will be no where to go. You both will have no choice but to return back to us.

"And when I see you, England," He mutters, "There will be a great surprise in store for you."

The ends of his mouth curl up into a smile, and chuckles to himself quietly.

* * *

"It has come to our attention that England and America are missing," a servant from England talks into a phone. "We have every reason to believe that they are headed to your country, Kiku."

Japan gasps. "They aren't going to cause trouble, I hope?"

The servant smiles to himself. "No, of course not. We believe that they are going to seek refuge at your mansion—however, we cannot be sure. My boss has ordered me to let you know that you should keep a close lookout for them. He says that he'll give you whatever you want—if you return them back to us once you find them."

Japan heaves a heavy sigh. "I am getting too old for this, but that is fine. I will call you once they are in our hands. I thank you for letting me know. Give your boss my regards."

"No, thank you for complying with us. It's a great help, and we are happy to know that you are willing to help us. I shall talk to you later,"

The phone on the other end clicks. Japan shakes his head.

"What trouble are they causing?"

* * *

**Author's Note: Procrastination is just my thing. ;A; It's a little late, but at least it's not too late. I have to worry about another story but I haven't just done anything! *sigh***

**Been real busy lately, so please excuse me. I apologize for several late updates and whatnot, but I just don't have the time this month to do anything. Family is really important to me ;A; **

**Let me know what you think in a review! Thanks for reading~**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own!**

**This chapter is in America's point of view.**

* * *

I knock on the door that belongs to Japan. I hear a shuffling sound inside, and someone mumbles, "Just a minute!"

The door opens slowly and Japan's head pokes out. "Yo, Japan!" I greet with the wave of my hand. Japan smiles and opens his door wide, inviting us in.

"Come right in," he bows and England and I walk inside. We take our shoes off, remembering the tradition of the Japanese when they enter someone's house. In America, most of us just walk in with our shoes on and track whatever was on the bottom all over. I can understand why the Japanese follow this tradition.

"What brings you both here?" Japan asks. We both shrug.

"Can you keep a secret?" I ask. Japan hesitates for a moment, and then he gives a genuine smile.

"Of course."

* * *

"...And that's pretty much the lowdown of what's happening."

Japan frowns. "It sounds like a lot of trouble. Are you sure you both want this?"

"Well..." America sighed, chuckling. "England didn't want this in the first place..."

England groans. "I did but I didn't."

"He practically begged me..."

"It didn't go like that!"

"So I cooperated and we ran away to Japan."

England sighs and puffs his cheeks out in irritation. "You tend to over-exaggerate a little bit..."

Japan sighs. "You probably should have just stayed put. You realize that your boss is looking for you both, right?"

"Yeah, we figured that much all ready." England retorts. "He already suspected us of this, anyway."

Japan takes a sip of the tea that was sitting next to him. "...You both are idiots."

America chuckles. "Yeah, we know." He pauses. "So...is it all right that we chill here until it's all right for us to leave?"

"You realize that would be a bad idea, yes?"

I frown. "Why is that?"

"England-san's boss called me not too long ago. He said that he knows you both are headed here, for Japan. I am to turn you into him once you reveal yourselves."

England tenses beside me. I gulp, shaking my head. "And do you plan to do that?"

Japan huffs. "I know I should. It would only be the right thing to do." Japan pauses to think of what to say. "I mean, we've been in good relations with each other for a long time now. I think that's why your boss knows that I would turn you to him—because it would be dishonorable to do such a thing as keeping you in hiding. I would like to help your boss, but I would also like to help you both in return. It's a tough decision, you see."

"Do what you want to do, Japan." England starts. My head turns to him, but his face was full of confidence. "I understand your reasoning, and for that, I respect it. If you believe that we should be captured and returned, so be it. If you want to help us and lie to my boss, so be it. It's your choice, you are the one responsible for it."

Japan nods thoughtfully, smiling. "I thank you for understanding. It means much. I know it would be a wrong choice to turn you both in, so we'll see how it turns out if you both stay here. You'll have to stay in hiding completely, you know? You also won't be able to go to any World Meetings..."

"That's all right!" America exclaims, jumping up. "Thanks so much, dude! It means a lot!" He pulls Japan into a tight hug, but Japan immediately recoils back.

"Wait a minute! There's no need to do that!"

England chuckles. "Thank you so much, Japan. You won't regret it. We'll do the best we can to help you for keeping us here, as well. And if my boss should ever find out that you are hiding us, I will take full responsibility for whatever he has to punish me.

"I just hope that he'll never find out."

* * *

"...No, it seems like they aren't here yet."

"What?" England's boss asks, confusion filled in his voice. "But the plane arrived nearly an hour or so ago!"

"That's what I'm confused about, sir." Japan sighs. "I have not seen them at all within the last hour, and it comes to my attention that they might have gone somewhere else. They might have known that I would have turned them in."

I look at Japan's face—it looks as if it's contorted into pain. Is he pained because he's risking his life? Or is he pained because he's just flat out lying to someone he's loyal to? I frown, wondering how he must feel. Japan rarely ever lies. If he does, it's just a small little detail that was turned around just a little bit that it wouldn't have made a difference whether the truth was told or not.

"You're _sure_ that they haven't arrived?" He yells into the phone, now. I can hear him clearly.

"I'm sure, but if I do find them I will gladly let you know. I will give you all the help I can to make sure that they are punished."

England shudders on the side of me, and I frown. He must have a pretty good idea what his boss will do once he finds us. I can't help but wonder what it is that he would do. It obviously isn't something that he would hope for, no, but something that he dreads.

What is it that his boss is scaring him about? I mean, we're both countries, so it can't be _that _bad right?

...Right?

* * *

**Author's Note: Hello! Guess who just posted this at nearly 4 in the morning? **_**This **_**girl right here! :D**

**I'm tired XDD But I'm just going to get this done now. In case you all don't know yet, or you haven't read the last Author's Note, this story will be posted on yourfanfiction dot com. This is because of what's going on right now with the deleting of stories that are deemed an MA rating. So, if you would like to check it out there, please do so. I have a feeling this story will get deleted sometime soon. You should also try out yourfanfiction! It's not that bad of a site, and their member number is going up rapidly! I know of a few others here who have posted stories there!**

**Also, I apologize for the short chapter and lack of excitement. This was just a quick chapter to hold you all over until things get heated. This chapter is also vital to the story, so it was very much needed. **

**Procrastination is such a fun thing, is it not? =3=**

**Well, reviews are greatly appreciated! I would also like to note that this chapter has reached over 30 reviews! That's a first for me and I'm greatly appreciating those who decided to leave a review! Let's try and make that _higher!_ I'm not begging for reviews, but it would help if you let me know if you liked it and critique what needs to be fixed. o3o**

**Thank you for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh my goodness, late update is late. ;~;**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or it's characters. They all belong to Hidekaz Himaruya (I believe). I only own the idea and the story!**

* * *

I deserve a good, swift kick in the ass. Seriously, for all of this trouble I have caused for everyone else. My boss is frantic. Alfred, Kiku, and I have risked all of our lives. The company that my boss runs is losing business because I was one of the best whores.

This happened because of my own want, rather than one everyone else wanted.

I sigh and place a palm over my eyes. What in bloody hell was I thinking, anyway? I should have just stayed where I was and let every other man make the best use of my body. Everything seemed pretty normal before all of this, and now this controversial issue among the world is being plastered all over the News. My boss surely never wanted this much attention towards his company, probably because of the fact that it was a shady deal over the counter. Only a select few people knew about his company, and those who knew about it were sworn to secrecy and never told a soul. He's probably going to get in a lot of trouble now, since prostitution is frowned upon and he's really the only one making the money.

I'm half-tempted to turn myself in to my boss and let him reprimand me by whatever means he wants. I know that's not what America (and possibly Japan) wants, but it would be the only solution to stop this from happening.

"England-san,"

I jump, not expecting any type of conversation anytime soon. "Huh?"

Kiku smiles, sitting down next to me on the floor and tucks his legs behind him. I smile at the traditional gesture. "You must be torn over this, am I right?"

I look away and sigh. "You're always able to see through me."

"Well, we were together for a certain time there." He places a cup of tea next to me and proceeds to pour himself a cup. "It's only natural that I catch on to your hidden emotions. Besides, I was always good at that in the first place." He gives me another smile and pats my shoulder. "If you do not wish to talk to me, that is all right with me. Just let me know when you-"

"I regret it all." I cut him off in the middle of his sentence.

An awkward silence fills the room as we sit, pondering what to say next.

After what seemed like an hour, Japan finally speaks up.

"I would not doubt it, Arthur. It was a tough decision, I am sure. But you listened to the idiot side of you and let your actions run wild."

I almost felt offended by that statement, but it was the truth.

"It's not fair," I mumble under my breath. "We should be able to do what we want."

"But from my understanding, it was you who wanted to be a prostitute in the first place."

I hesitate. "Right, you are. But we should be able to quit, if we wish."

"You are correct, no one should be forced to do what they do not want to-especially when they have no interest in it anymore."

I take a sip of my tea. "But I didn't mean to get all of you involved, and I surely didn't mean to get the company mentioned in the News. How it got there, I have not a damn clue."

Japan frowns. "Listen, do you remember the day when I ended our relationship?"

"...What does this have to do with-"

"Just listen," he pauses and takes a sip of his tea, "I never wanted to break up with you. I was stuck between two decisions—I wanted to stay, or I wanted to go. What did I do? I chose the idiot choice and, now, I lost someone who was important to me."

My brows furrow. "I still fail to see what this has to do with my situation."

"What I am trying to say is that people make stupid decisions, all the time. People get confused between what they want and what they might lose in the process. Some don't even think of the consequences of their decision because they are too engrossed in what their mind is stuck on, at that particular moment in time."

I think about Kiku's little moral of his story. It fits perfectly well with my own situation, and just about everybody's own. I smile at Japan's wise reasoning and I find myself reaching across the side of the table to give him a big hug.

Japan starts to fluster and his face grows red. "E-England-san? Please, you know very well..."

"We did this normally while we were in a relationship. You shouldn't have a problem with it."

"But-"

"We saw each other naked, Kiku. We've pretty much done every intimate thing together. You're getting flustered just over a hug?" I chuckle.

Japan stops flailing his arms to get out of my grasp and, with no other choice, wraps his arms around me.

"Thank you," I whisper in his ear, "I suddenly feel less worried about my situation than I was before."

Japan nods and tightens his grip around me.

"I'm glad I could help."

* * *

"Japan!" America frowns, shaking his head. "Don't you have anything else over here besides fish and tea?"

"W-Well, I have noodles..."

"I mean, actual food. You know, food like us Americans eat!"

Japan shakes his head. "I do not believe in eating really fatty foods."

America stops for a minute and thinks about Japan's response. "Wait a minute. Were you just implying a stereotype?"

Japan smiles. "Whatever do you mean? I was just saying that I do not keep foods such as burgers and the like in my house."

Alfred puffs out his cheeks. "That was definitely a stereotype, Japan. Why are you so mean to me?"

I chuckle and sit down at the table. "Alfred, just eat what Kiku has. He's been kind enough to offer hospitality, so it's expected that we eat what he has to give us."

"Very well said, England-san." Japan agrees.

America plops down beside me and crosses his arms. "...You're right. Fine, I'll take whatever you have."

Japan smiles. "Right. Noodles, then?"

"Better than stinky fish." America mumbles under his breath.

I felt normal, sitting there.

I kind of felt like we were all one, dysfunctional family.

* * *

**Author's Note: Late update is really late. ;~; I apologize deeply and hope that you all haven't left me, wondering when in the hell I was going to update again ;A;**

**It's just that I've been so busy lately and found that I had absolutely no time to write. Life has crashed down on me (not completely, but I've been kinda depressed about things that have been happening lately ;-;) so I'll try and keep writing. I'm going to try and update my stories once every week or so. (Try) **

**I'm not sure how long this story is going to be! I'm trying to figure out how I should continue this. **

**Just going to let you know, that on the week of August 1st, I will be unable to update any stories. I have band camp and, therefore, I must stay at my grandma's to get a ride every morning. (She has absolutely no internet, so I'm stuck playing Harvest Moon or Rune Factory o.o)**

**Again, I just want to apologize for my absence and the lack of updates. I hope you enjoyed this rather small chapter, but things should be getting heated up here very soon.**

**Reviews are also appreciated~**

**Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own!**

* * *

"That's it." A fist slams down onto a desk. "I'm headed to Japan."

"But, boss-"

"No." England's boss cuts off a servant, "No 'buts' about this. I'm serious. They haven't turned up, nor does it seem like they will anytime soon. I still think Japan is going against his word and is keeping them there." He gets up from his chair and pulls on his jacket. "Don't give him a warning. If they truly are there, he'll be able to hide Arthur and Alfred before I can arrive in time."

He slams the door, leaving the servant in his tracks. The servant stares at the door dumbfounded, but he finally returns to his daily duties.

As England's boss climbs into his car, he calls America's boss.

"Walter. I'm headed for Japan right now."

"_What? But I thought Japan wasn't-"_

"I can't be sure, but I think Kiku is keeping them against his word."

Walter sighs on the other end. "_Jacob, Japan isn't like that. We've associated with him for years and years and he hasn't been dishonorable to us once."_

"Exactly." Jacob scoffs, "It's almost too perfect. I'll call you when I get back."

_"Wait-!"_

Jacob ends the call and starts his car. As he pulls out of the garage (the car was kept in there for safety purposes) he remembers the first actual intimate conversation between England and he.

It was the first day England had tried his hand at prostitution.

* * *

"I am getting ready to leave for a World Meeting." Japan comments as he slips into his shoes.

"There's a meeting today?" America asks, jumping up from the floor. Japan nods.

"Yes, but you cannot attend it." He glances side to side, making sure he grabbed everything that he needed. "You're technically a fugitive, so you would be captured at the meeting."

America frowns and says, "I suppose you're right. It wouldn't be the smartest idea, huh?"

"Well, all right then." He opens his door. "Don't answer if someone knocks. Chances are, it could be someone looking for you. And don't make too much noise because it could attract unwanted attention."

"We know, we know." America dismisses the issue with the wave of his hand and chuckles. "We're not seven, you know? I think we can handle ourselves here."

Japan smiles. "I know, you're right." He pauses. "Oh! Where is England-san, anyway?"

"He's taking a little nap in the other room." America points in the hallway. "I guess he didn't get much sleep last night so he wanted me to let you know." He shakes his head. "Thank you for bringing it up—I completely forgot about it."

Japan nods slowly. "Well, you know where the food is if you become hungry. I don't have the slightest clue when I'll be home, so hold on tight."

"All right. Bye!" America turns around to sit back on the floor. Japan smiles and waves his hand. The door closes quietly and all that is left is silence.

America shifts awkwardly as he watches the TV in front of him.

"What to do, what to do..." He talks to himself aloud, now wondering what in the world he could do to keep himself from getting bored. His bored expression suddenly twists into a grin, a grin that seems to have innocent intentions but what lies behind that grin is a complete mystery. He chuckles to himself as he praises himself inside his head. He walks to one of the bedrooms and peeks in very slowly. England is snuggled comfortably in the futon on the floor.

America knows how much of a light sleeper the fellow is, so he takes his time leisurely and slowly makes his way towards the snoring body.

Coming upon this body, America slowly brings his hand down to the blanket. He grabs the blanket with his thumb and forefinger and lifts the blanket up. America makes his way down next to England, making himself at home next to the oblivious body. America smiles. "_It may not be much of a prank, but it'll be something that freaks England out once he sees it."_

America pulls the blanket back up and covers them both back up. America snuggles his head against England's back and inhales his scent. It was a different scent. _"It doesn't smell like sweat or semen," _America points out, "_but it smells more...clean. ...Well, of course he would smell clean. He takes much more showers out here now that he has the opportunity."_

_\ _And it was a bit awkward, laying there next to an ex-prostitute. Not only was it weird, but he had slept with that prostitute. He paid for England's service. He was a regular customer.

America, even though he got himself into so much trouble, was glad that he was able to be there for the poor guy. Through hard times, he played a big part in England's very emotional issues. And now look where they were—hiding out in Japan because England was so afraid of his boss.

_Bang! BangBangBang!_

America was thrust out of his thoughts. He looked around frantically, then his eyes diverting back to England. He must have heard it too because he jumped out of his slumber and looked at America with a look of pure confusion.

"What was that?" England asked, but America quickly covered England's mouth with his hand. He brought his forefinger up to his mouth and held it there, signaling for them to be quiet. England nodded, the fear developing into his emerald green eyes.

They sat there, listening for any other implication of unwanted visitors. And as they were pretty sure that no one was there, another loud knock made them jump. A voice could be faintly heard.

"_I know you guys are there! If you don't answer, I'll break in!"_

"It's Jacob!" England whispered.

America frowned. "Jacob?"

"My boss—his name is Jacob." England sighed. "Let's just go. We've lost, at this point."

"Wait-"

And just when America was ready to object, the cracking sound of something being broken could be heard throughout the house.

Before they even had time to react, Jacob stomped towards the back of the house once he realized that they weren't in the living room. The door bust opened.

Jacob stood there, his face as red as a tomato. In one hand was a gun of some sort. The other hand would clench into a fist and unclench itself—a repeated process. He stared at the two dumbfounded nations on the ground.

"Either both of you submit and come with me," he starts and takes a deep breath.

"or you both get shot. I don't care either way."

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm not very good at this, am I? The updating thing, I mean. *insert nervous laugh* Yeah, about that one week thing? **

**_I didn't do it._  
**

**Of course I didn't. I said I would TRY to do it, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to. ;~;**

**But I've recently gotten into the writing mood all over again so I'll see if I get better. Anyhow!**

**Things are almost arriving to an end. I'm not sure how much longer this will be, but I know that this will be resolved and ended very soon. Lemme know what you think! **

**As always, reviews are appreciated and are never frowned upon. o u o**

**Thanks! (PS: If you review and notice errors, let me know please. I would love to fix it if I could.)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Hetalia or its characters.**

* * *

"...You can't do that!" America exclaimed at Jacob's sudden proposal. "We're countries—you injure us, you injure the whole country itself."

"That's why I'm not going to kill you, rather...make you both vulnerable." Jacob watched both nations carefully. "At your healthy condition, you can do just about anything to get free. If I were to just shoot you, it would hinder your ability to run away. It's not like I'm killing you, per say, so why are you so afraid?" A sinister smile curls up on his face. "While the actual country itself may hurt, so what?"

England grunted. "You'll do just about anything, huh?" He pauses. "Why are you like this? What is it that you want from us?"

"You were my best employee, Arthur."

"That's..." England starts, "not really..."

"But, of course. Ever since you joined, we've received much more income than ever before. It was like you had some sort of connection with the customers. It was like...you were _made _just for them."

England shudders. "So, you're saying...that I was practically made to be a slut?"

At this statement, America's expression sours. "That's not true."

"Is that so?" Jacob scoffs. "You were lured in, weren't you? You saw Arthur, just sitting there. You took the bait and just couldn't help yourself."

"How can you say that-" America started. "You don't know me. You don't know my thoughts." America pauses and wraps his arms around England. "I love this man even though I met him through means of prostitution. While that may sound so far-fetched—believe me, I would know that it isn't."

England's skin flushes a bright red and his head swings in the direction of America. His eyes grow teary; the ability to hold back tears suddenly proved to be a difficult task in itself.

"That's why I'm not going to let you take him away from me, Jacob. Even if it means that you'll have to kill me in the end."

"Is that so," Jacob grunts. He takes out what looks like a walkie-talkie. "Take them." He mumbles into the device.

All of a sudden, large men in black uniforms break into the house. One jumps in through a window—another one comes from the entrance of the hallway. Others tumble into the house, one by one, as if they were preparing for some huge fight to ensue. America's grip tightens around England as the room gets crowded with the suspicious men.

"Don't be too rough with them-" Jacob pauses and his expression widens into a nasty grin, "especially with England."

England shudders again, this time more violently. As the men start to close in on the two huddled on the floor in the middle of the room, America starts to scream.

"No—you can't take him away from me!" He starts to frantically push away the men with his feet. England, emotionless, sits like a mere doll in America's arms. America looks at his lover and starts yelling at him. "Why aren't you doing anything?! You don't want to go, do you? Sitting there isn't helping-!" He keeps pushing the men away from them, but the two were just outnumbered.

One hand with a cloth of some sort clasps over America's mouth—he can't breathe. He could feel himself growing tired as his will to fight suddenly slows down drastically. He takes one more glance back to England before he passes out.

England was out of America's arms, standing beside Jacob. Jacob's arm was around England—his smile that of a madman.

* * *

"..." America starts to stir. His eyes blink once, twice. Thrice, in rapid succession, he looks around the room.

"Where the hell am I?" He thinks aloud; the place is clearly unfamiliar. He tries to get up, but he realizes his body is too weak and that he is in chains anyway. As he tries to look around the room for a clue of some sort, his eyes stop on a bent figure. Sounds of heavy breathing fill the room—what was it? America tried to figure it out, but he couldn't tell. The room was dark—he was unable to see anything other than what was directly in front of him. As he listens closely, he hears the sound of a slurp. The sound of something so lewd makes America shiver—what in God's name was it?

"You fucking slut," a voice breathes, "it's amazing how you can be so good at this in such a short amount of time. It's no wonder you were popular among the others."

America chokes on his saliva—thoughts run a muck in his head as he fears the worst.

"...E-England?" America stutters, managing to get his voice to be heard. The slurping stops. A man grunts somewhere in the room.

"You've awoken?" The voice asks.

America trembles, but it wasn't from fear. Perhaps it was anger?

A chair squeaks and there was the sound of a zipper being pulled up. Footsteps clatter slowly on the ground toward the cage. Upon closer inspection, the man was indeed Jacob.

"You bastard," America mumbles under his voice. Jacob chuckles.

"Looks like I've got you cornered now, huh?" He taps the cage with his finger. "You look like a poor, helpless puppy. How do you think you'll get out of this mess, hm?"

America grunts. "Shut the fuck up and let me go. Once Japan-"

"Japan, you say?" Jacob paces back and forth. "It's too bad. We have Japan detained as well."

"What?" America gasps.

"However, enough of that." Jacob turns around and grabs England by the shoulder. He pulls him over by the cage and throws him on the ground. He's blindfolded and panting heavily.

"What did you do to him?!" America screamed. The poor country on the floor jumped, started at the sudden outburst.

"He's OK—there's only a couple of drugs in him, only to keep him in control." A zipper is being pulled down. America feels his heartbeat grows faster and faster by the minute.

"What the fuck are you going to do?" America asks, fear laced in his voice. Jacob chuckles silently as he places his hands violently on England's hips. England takes no notice whatsoever as Jacob pushes his body towards England's. England whimpers and shakes his head as Jacob intrudes him.

"Arthur?" America calls out England's given name—and the fear grows more intense. With no answer, America's throat chokes.

The sound of skin on skin sounds throughout the forsaken place. England's moans grow louder and louder each second; his hands grip the bars of the cage tightly. Even in the dark, the white of his knuckles could be seen.

There was nothing America could do, but sit there and watch.

"Jacob, you bastard!" America yells. "Stop it! What right do you have to do this to a helpless person?"

"I have..every right." He grunts and smiles. "He's my employee—he signed...a contract..!" He thrusts particularly hard into Arthur; it makes the poor nation cry out in pain and pleasure. His voice grows hoarse. "Which means..I get every right of Arthur, whether it be...his body, or everything else..!"

He keeps thrusting. He doesn't stop, even when England finally climaxes. Jacob pulls the back of England's head with his hair—England's screams grow faint now, as if he's out of strength to even voice his own pain.

Finally, Jacob climaxes and he releases all of his seed into England. Once he empties himself, he pulls out and zips his pants back up.

"That's why you're so good at this, England. You just sit there and take it like the worthless whore you are." Jacob sighs and walks away.

America stares at the writhing body in front of him with fear. It's like he's never seen this person before—thanks to all of the drugs he's on. America holds his hand out, wanting to touch him gently. Wanting to wipe the fresh tears away from the poor nation's face, just _anything _to take the nation out of his pain and torment.

"England," America whispers. The nation tilts his head up slowly. England's eyes are filled with fear, confusion—pain, most of all, and the redness around his eyes do indeed show that he had been crying. "Can you take these chains off of me? We need to get out of here."

England breathes heavily and looks in the other direction. Jacob doesn't seem to be around. However, England barely comprehends what America had just said. He looks back at America helplessly, mouthing inaudible words. It seems as if he is still feeling the waves of pleasure his orgasm brought on.

"England, come on-" America whispers a little louder. "Do you know what I'm saying? Please snap out of it!"

England moves his arm slowly. He reaches into the cage. America sighs with relief once he sees that the nation does understand, even if it is only a little bit. His fingers brush against America's arm as he tries to find the chain. Once he finds it, he tries to press a little button that releases the chain.

After a few seconds of fumbling, England finally presses the button and the chain is released. America smiles. "Good job," he mumbles. He gets the other chain off with his now free hand and reaches around the cage door to unlock it. As he climbs out, he signals for England to follow him. However, because England is drugged, he stumbles back and forth like he's inebriated. America frowns and quickly picks up the nation into his arms. England's hands claw at America's jacket and his empty eyes search America's own.

"Don't worry," America whispers in England's ear, "we'll be out of here in no time.

"All right?"

* * *

**Author's Note: Wooooh. Another chapter~**

**Ehh, Christmas Break is coming up in a week and I'm really excited. I want to accomplish more during that time, so hopefully I can write more and whatnot. (Though I always break my promise when I say that. ._.) **

**Reviews are appreciated~**

**Thanks for reading!**


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